


The Muggleborn Protection Agency

by HeartofClaw



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Dark Arts, Death Eaters, Deathly Hallows, Fallen Ministry, Gen, Harry Potter - Freeform, Magic, Ministry of Magic, Muggleborn, Muggles, Wizarding World
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 05:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartofClaw/pseuds/HeartofClaw
Summary: September 1997 - The Ministry has fallen. Rosemary, a young witch working in Records department has fled her job, stealing a copy of the Magical Registry in the process. Since leaving, she has noticed that someone has been working through the list, attacking Muggleborns. Now, with the help of her old friend and Hogwarts alum Philip, she must try and protect Muggleborn-kind... Until Voldemort is defeated once more.
Kudos: 3





	The Muggleborn Protection Agency

**Author's Note:**

> September 1997 - The Ministry has fallen. Rosemary, a young witch working in Records department has fled her job, stealing a copy of the Magical Registry in the process. Since leaving, she has noticed that someone has been working through the list, attacking Muggleborns. Now, with the help of her old friend and Hogwarts alum Philip, she must try and protect Muggleborn-kind... Until Voldemort is defeated once more.

**10th September 1997 **– **Leicestershire**

The cool evening air had crept in quicker than expected, and as Stephanie rushed her way home, she deeply regretted not bringing a coat to school that day. The summer had been swelteringly long, but now a strong wind lashed against her face, bringing with it the promise of a sharp and cold winter. The gusts whipped their way around her, catching her hair, causing it to dance with a wild abandon. Fed up of being constantly slapped in the face by the merry strands, Stephanie increased her pace. She couldn’t get home fast enough, and the thought of her warm bedroom spurred her onwards.

Life had always been strange for Stephanie. Not a month has passed without some strange occurrence; little things that cemented the fact that her life could never be totally normal. Yet, this past month had taken things to a whole new level. All the weird events now seemed to be happening daily, not to mention that she couldn’t shake the oddest feeling. The feeling that somehow, she would never be happy again.

Most of the children at St Botolph’s Primary school were picked up by safety-eager parents, and those few who didn’t walked home following the main road, which led a long and meandering route around the lake and down into the suburbs. However, Stephanie, whose mother and father both worked full time jobs, preferred to take a shortcut home. The rear of the school backed onto a small wooded area, followed by a narrow ginnel past the old allotments. The path was old and overgrown, the council having long given up their fight against nature’s hold on the area. In fact, the ginnel itself was closed off by a chain bearing a sign warning off trespassers, though this rarely provoked a second thought from the daring girl before she dipped under and continued her journey.

The ginnel was walled on either side, with ivy dancing its way up and along the brickwork. Ahead, Stephanie could see the walk open into a view of the lakeside, the path turning into nothing more than a rubble trail along the perimeter of the lake itself. Stephanie hopped past an encroaching clump of nettles and ducked under some bramble hanging down from above. The wind was now swelling into a whipping gale, blowing steadily from behind, and Stephanie hurried even quicker on her way.

It was at this moment that Stephanie could have sworn that she heard a loud crack from somewhere behind her up the ginnel. She turned quickly to try and find the source of this unexpected noise. Nothing. The path seemed exactly as it had done before, and anywhere beyond was obscured by that low-hanging veil of bramble. For a few seconds Stephanie stood there, deathly still, waiting to see if anything was discernible over the wind. Satisfied that it must have been a trick of the mind, she turned back and carried on walking. Stephanie was walking much faster now, holding onto the straps of her backpack as she busied her way down the ginnel.

She was only a matter of steps away from the end of the alleyway now. From this position, the view of the lake opened up before her, providing a glimpse of the wide expanse that laid ahead. To the left of the rubble path was the lake itself, rippling heavily with the wind rushing over its surface. To the right was another thinly wooded area and beyond that a tall mesh fence, designed to deter any trespassers or rogue fishermen. Albeit unkempt, there was a strange beauty about this place, forgotten by the humdrum of the city around it.

There was another sound now, a strong rustling from over Stephanie’s shoulder. She turned once more, just in time to see the veil of bramble spring into flames. Smoke billowed as the fire consumed the foliage, and soon the whole other end of the alleyway was alight. In the centre of the smoke appeared a shadowy figure. Striding through the plumes of ash, the figure emerged into plain sight. They were tall, an adult for sure, and wore a hooded black cloak that extended all the way to the ankles. Their face was concealed by the hood, but from within the depths, Stephanie could see a pair of piercing blue eyes, glaring with scary ferocity and intent. Out of the figure’s sleeve protruded a long branch of dark wood, gnarled and twisted. Stephanie had never seen this person, but she was suddenly filled with a dread like she had never felt before. And as the hooded figure strode towards her, she yelled and ran.

Out on the lakeside, the small girl ran as fast as her legs would carry her. The figure, now clearly giving chase, did not break into a run, but their long strides carried them quickly towards Stephanie, closing the distance between them. Stephanie kept glancing over her shoulder, completely distracted by the horror of the stranger who was now only a matter of metres away. So distracted, in fact, that she failed to notice the large rock on the rubble path ahead. Her foot caught the rock causing her to stumble for a few seconds, before falling to the ground with a resounding thud.

Scrambling desperately, Stephanie could only stare up in horror as the hooded figure drew closer still. Yet, at a matter of yards away from her, the figure came to a halt. Time itself seemed to stand still as the figure stood there, motionless. Underneath the hood, those piercing blue eyes now seemed to burn bright with emotion, locked with Stephanie’s own gaze. After what seemed like an eternity, the figure raised the arm holding the twisted rod of wood, pointing it directly towards the small girl.

The next few seconds seemed to take an age. Stephanie, now frozen in fear, watched as beneath the dark cloak, those stark blue eyes remained fixed on hers. But now, as the twilight glare reflected in every direction from the lake’s rippling surface, more features of the man’s face came into view; The etched jaw line, the sunken eyes, the confident smirk of someone relishing the moment…

“Such a pathetic young mudblood… CRUCIO!”

The stranger’s wand sprung to life. However, at that very same instant, Stephanie screamed as hard as she could. As she did so, a resounding crack was heard to her side, followed by a thunderous creaking sound. Stephanie withdrew in horror as the trunk of the nearest tree slammed to the floor between her and the hooded figure. The energy from the stranger’s wand smashed into the tree, harmlessly deflecting away. Stephanie scrambled to her feet, but she found herself still too terrified to run. The pair stood there, eyes locked on one another, waiting for the other to break the stalemate.

Finally, after what seemed like an age, the hooded figure drew his wand once more. The thin twisted branch took aim at the girl’s chest. Surely, this time, there would be no escape.

“AVADA-“

“ EXPELLIARMUS!”

A blast of red light flew over Stephanie’s shoulder and hit the hooded figure square in the chest. His wand flew from his grasp and landed amongst the pebbles a few metres away. Stephanie turned to see where the light had come from. Stood behind her was another man, also with a wand in his hand. However, this man was not hooded; he wore a long navy trench coat and shabby blue jeans. His face was gaunt and pale, like he hadn’t slept in a week. His expression was a serious one.

Stepping in front of Stephanie, the man raised his wand level with the hooded figure, who was now scrambling towards his wand. Once he had grasped it, the hooded figure stood up, regaining his composure to confront the new stranger head on.

“Oh, so muggleborns _are_ just like cockroaches. There’s always more than one.” The hooded figure smirked.

“Very good Hector. But I think we are forgetting there are no purebloods here. After all, your mother was a halfblood, wasn’t she?” The new stranger stepped closer still to the hooded figure.

“My mother? What would you know about of my mother?” Hector quipped angrily.

“Oh nothing… But I hear half of Slytherin house knew her very well. Oh, and Hufflepuff too, for that matter.” The new stranger laughed, evidently finding his own comment rather amusing.

“How dare you… You were a fool to come here, Philip.” The hooded figure drew his wand. “Now, you can walk away. I will forget all about this. Only one mudblood need die. Well, tonight at least.”

Philip stood his ground. He was now stood in a wide stance, acting as a human shield between Stephanie and Hector. The wind whipped around the trench coat, causing it to balloon outwards and shield Stephanie further.

“Come on Hector, the girl isn’t part of this. Just let her go.”  
Hector laughed. “Of course she is part of it, can’t you see? She’s a mudblood, just like you. She is a crime against magic kind.”

“The only crime against magic are those that use it for their own evil desires rather than accept the beauty that magic itself holds.”

“You talk about the beauty of magic? Where was your family when Gellert fought bravely against the blood traitor in the Wizarding war? Hmmm? Where were they when the four founders laid the first stones at Hogwarts? I thought not. And when the great witch trials occurred, were your family in hiding, fearful for their lives? Or were they muggles, leading the way with their pitchforks and knives?

The Dark Lord has a beautiful vision for magic kind. With that vision, the world will come to know the might of magic as it takes its rightful place above all muggles. And, of course, all you freaks in between that have the nerve to call yourself wizards.”

Hector’s words stunned Philip to silence. His face, a moment before full of intent, had morphed itself into a shroud of pity.

“We both remember the last time You Know Who came to power, Hector. This girl doesn’t. Just let her leave.” Philip pleaded.

Hector smirked once more, using his free hand to mop his ruffled fringe back into place. “It seems we have reached an impasse. You leave me with no choice.”

Philip readied his duelling stance, resigned to the inevitable. “There is always a choice.”

“CRUCIO!” Hector cried.

“PROTEGO!” Philip countered.

Hector’s curse bounded away as Philip shielded himself from the attack. Philip did, however, bear the brunt of the force of the attack. He barrelled away, before facing his opponent once more.

“INCENDIO!” Philip cried.

The fallen tree between the two duellers leapt into flames. Stephanie, who had now backed herself into the shadows of the forest border, sat mesmerised as the fire appeared out of nowhere. Hector, recomposing himself, took aim at Philip once more. His opponent was barely visible through the deluge of smoke.

“You will have to do better than that to get the better of me, mudblood. Aguamenti!”

A stream of water sprung from Hector’s wand, dousing the fierce flames. The smoke cleared, the stench of burning wood still hanging on the damp air. Ready to cast his next attack, Hector brought his wand’s aim where Philip had been standing just seconds before the flames had taken hold. However, his opponent was nowhere to be seen.

A loud crack suddenly resounded around the lakeside. Hector had mere seconds to turn his head as Philip apparated behind him. There was not enough time, however, for Hector to draw his wand before Philip uttered his next incantation.

“Incarcerous.”

Thin cords sprung from Philip’s wand. They weaved themselves around Hectors ankles and wrists, binding them together. Soon his whole body was bound, the thin cords constricting themselves tighter and tighter. With a clean whip action, Philip pulled Hector down to his knees.

“The Dark Lord will hear about this.” Hector spat darkly.

“Will he now? Because last time I checked, you aren’t a death eater, are you? You Know Who doesn’t care one bit the vigilante antics of a maniac with a halfblood mother.”

“The Dark Lord calls on us all to help his vision become a reality.” Hector stated indignantly. “One day you will regret stopping me.”

“Really? I can’t remember doing anything…” Philip teased playfully.

Hector’s face morphed into a vision of fear. “You wouldn’t…”

“I would.”

Philip drew his wand to Hector’s face. The thin cords released themselves from his wand, falling slowly away. The deluge of cord stayed firm around Hector though, and he had not time to tear himself free before he heard Philip utter the dreaded word.

“Obliviate.”

Hector’s expression melted away to a sad vacant smile. Philip stood there as a cold light shone from the end of his wand. It seemed to pain Philip to do this, his face contorted into a grimace full of resolve.

A good couple of minutes passed in this way. Finally, the light from Philip’s wand faded and a limp Hector collapsed to the ground unconscious. Philip walked up to him, and gently prodded him to see if he was awake. Now kneeling by Hector’s limp form, Philip looked up at Stephanie.

“Hi there. I need your help.”

Stephanie didn’t know what to do. She was so scared. She had just been attacked by one stranger, only for them to be rendered unconscious by another stranger. Had he killed him? And how did all those incredible things just happen? She wanted to cry, but she was also curious. Fighting the urge to run, she took a few tentative steps towards the man in the trench coat.

Philip smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything.”

He held his hands up as a sign of surrender, albeit with his wand still clutched between his thumb and index finger. There was something about his dark brown eyes that were so peaceful and placid, yet so sad.

“Don’t come any closer.” He said firmly. “What’s your name?”

“S…Stephanie.”

“Okay, Stephanie, do you have anything on you that you don’t mind throwing away? Like a water bottle or pencil or something?”

Stephanie rooted around in her bag, and quickly pulled out tatty, stained and bitten pencil. She held it up towards Philip, hoping that it was the sort of thing he was looking for.

“That’s great Stephanie. Now, just throw it to me.”

Stephanie threw the pencil. Philip caught it confidently and laid it on the floor next to Hector. From within his trench coat, he then drew a bottle of Gin. He opened the cap of the bottle and poured about half of it away onto the floor. After doing this, he poured a little more, this time over Hector’s mouth and cloak. Stephanie startled at this, worried that the hooded figure was going to awake from his stupor.

“Don’t worry, he won’t wake up for a while.” Philip reassured her. “Now, whatever happens, I need you to stand back, okay?”

Philip placed the gin bottle in Hector’s hand. He also moved Hector’s wand from his hand to the folds of his cloak. He then stood up and took a couple of steps back. Philip drew his wand again, this time focusing it on the pencil. With a flourish on the wand, the pencil shone a bright blue.

“The ministry may have fallen, but this is still very illegal. Don’t try this at home, kid.” Philip stated to Stephanie, his gaze still transfixed on the pencil. 

Finally, Philip seemed happy with the shining pencil. He reached down to Hector’s body, before giving it one massive heave. As the body turned, Philip let go, allowing it to fall ungracefully onto the shining pencil. As soon as the body and the pencil made contact, they both disappeared, leaving Stephanie and Philip alone.

“Don’t worry, he’s gone now. He’ll wake up in a few hours somewhere in Wales and he won’t even remember you existed Stephanie.” Philip smiled.

“I don’t understand.” The girl replied, still scared by all that she had seen.

“Nor should you understand.” Philip was still smiling, but the sad glint in his eye was growing by the second. “These are dangerous times Stephanie. And people like you and me will be in big danger. But you’re special, and you’re going to be okay.”

“How did you do all those things? You made those ropes and the fire? And you made the tree fall...”

“I made the ropes and the fire by magic, Stephanie.” Philip said seriously. “But I didn’t make that tree fall. You did.”

Stephanie was stood in shock, unable to take the news she was hearing. Could it possible? Had she made the tree fall?

“You’ve made things happen before, haven’t you, Stephanie? Things you can’t explain? I know you didn’t mean for the tree to fall, but you made it happen Stephanie. You have magic like I do. But it’s not time for you to learn about all that yet. Not knowing will keep you safe. So, what I want you to do Stephanie, is this. Run home, and don’t stop to talk to anyone. Be careful and stay safe. Do you understand?”

Stephanie nodded, before turning and running along the lake’s edge towards her home. Philip finally relaxed, letting out a long sigh. He shook his head.

“Just a girl. This isn’t your war.”

He turned and walked through to the edge of woodland that bordered the lakeside path. Soon he was concealed by tall trunks on every side. And with a resounding crack, Philip was gone.

***

Rosemary was busy reading Witch Weekly by the fireside. It had been a long day of doing nothing. It had been this way ever since she had fled her job at the Ministry after it fell. Not to mention that she barely dared step outside anymore since the rumours that You Know Who’s followers were snatching Ministry personnel who had gone missing.

She was just turning the page to examine an advert for a bewitched crochet hook when there was a knock at the door. Placing the magazine tentatively on the coffee table, Rosemary drew her wand. Quickly, she crept towards the door, making sure not to creak any loose floorboards on her way there. _You can’t be too careful these days, _she thought to herself.

Reaching the front door, she slid took a cautious peek through the peephole. Sighing with relief she unlatched the door and opened it.

“Philip, what are you doing here at this time of night?” She asked, surprised to see her old friend.

“It couldn’t wait until morning, Rose. You were right. About all of it.”

“You better some in.” Rosemary said, conscious that this was not the sort of conversation to be having on a public street. She ushered Philip through to the living room, where he perched on the nearby sofa arm.

“I checked the list you gave me Rosemary. That girl, Stephanie, was attacked by Hector Parkinson tonight. In broad daylight too. You Know Who has the Ministry’s muggleborn records and is working through it.”

Rosemary’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure? I mean Hector was an idiot, but he’s not exactly a death eater, is he?”

“That’s the thing. They must have worked out a way to disseminate the information to normal wizards like Hector who are trying to prove their worth to the Dark Lord. And they seem to be working through the list in order.”

“And the girl?” Rosemary asked.

“She got away safely. Not before I had scared the living daylights out of her though bless her. Hector scared her so much she caused a tree to fall down in front of him.”

“Blimey. So what are we going to do?”

Philip had never been more sure of anything in his life. He knew what he had to do, no matter the cost.

“Well, Dumbledore’s dead and the Potter kid isn’t around to help them. You stole a copy of the Muggleborn Registry when you left the Ministry, right? So far, they’ve been working down the list, and we’ve stopped them at every turn. Now, they don’t realise we’ve been doing that, do they? So, we’re going to get one step ahead. Next time they attack one a muggleborn, we’re going to be waiting.”


End file.
